


Burnout

by magicconchshel



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Burnout - Freeform, Light Angst, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:15:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25456042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicconchshel/pseuds/magicconchshel
Summary: Prowl experiences a burnout.
Relationships: Prowl & Smokescreen
Comments: 4
Kudos: 41





	Burnout

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like it had to happen at some point.

The third joor of Prowl’s shift ticked by. The pile on the right side of his desk had hardly grown and the pile on the left side of his desk had hardly shrunk. He tapped the tips of his digits against his desk. 

He wasn’t behind. Prowl had planned ahead, knowing he was slowing down, and had worked extra hours the past few cycles to compensate. He was actually still ahead, but the gap between “on track” and “ahead” was beginning to shrink. 

The data pad in front of him had been lying there for thirty kliks now. He couldn’t stop reading the same line over and over again. 

This had been happening for a few decacycles. Prowl couldn’t pinpoint when exactly it had started, but he knew it had to be recently. He was not the one to originally notice it. He had made an error on the schedule and was asked to correct it. It was corrected and dismissed from Prowl’s mind until he collapsed in the control room one morning. 

He was standing still in the middle of the room, trying to refocus his optics on a glyph on the datapad he was reading. The room was swaying and the glyph kept on moving around his servos. He blinked a few times, trying to find it again, but found that he was falling to the ground instead. 

When he came online again, there were several mecha surrounding him, Ratchet being one of them. He nearly strangled Prowl on the spot when he learned what the cause was. Lack of fuel. 

Prowl had been feeling dizzy the entire morning, but had never connected the dots. It made sense. When Prowl thought about it more, he realized that he had not refuelled that morning or the previous night. He was not hungry. 

He had spent the rest of the day in the med bay. Ratchet filled his tank up to 100% before letting him go. It felt odd having his tank so full. It hadn’t been that way for quite some time. Smokescreen had stayed with him the rest of the night, per Ratchet’s request. 

As Prowl organized his shelf, Smokescreen had lowered his data pad and tilted his helm. “You’ve lost a little mass.” he said. 

Prowl looked at him, stack of data pads balanced in his arms. “Have I?” 

“Yeah, just a little around your protoform. Your legs look slim.”

Smokescreen had never been one to comment on physical appearances. He must have meant it. Prowl thought it over. His armor still fit and he didn’t feel thinner or lighter. 

From then on, Prowl made an effort to be more conscious over his fuelling habits. He knew they were poor to begin with, but now they were plainly negligent. Refuelling became a chore. He was not hungry. There was no pleasure in it. He drank to consume and to be able to function another day. 

Because of this, he was fuelling even less than before. He was running on fumes half of the time and the other half he was below 50%. But it didn’t feel like it. Other than the dizziness and shakiness, he felt like he had a full tank. 

But with the loss of appetite came paranoia and the helm aches and exhaustion. He found that no amount of fuel could fix this. 

Prowl was collapsing onto his berth every night and would not wake until his alarm sounded the next morning. There was no time for leisure anymore. Every klik was spent either working or recharging. Not that anyone noticed. Prowl never spent time in the rec room and hardly ever had anyone over in his quarters. 

Smokescreen would stop by sometimes. He’d arrive right after Prowl’s shift ended, just as he was about to recharge, and would sit on his couch. He’d refuel with Prowl until he was satisfied that they had both had enough, then leave. 

The datapad was still on the table in front of him. Only now, he’d sunk into his servos. His elbows were braced against the desk and his arms held up his helm as he dozed. He knew what he was doing, but couldn’t stop. Recharge sounded better than anything else right now. 

He didn’t hear the door open, but he did hear Smokescreen start speaking. 

“Are you recharging on the job?” 

Prowl jerked and resumed an upright position. His brother was standing before his desk. 

“Did you recharge last night?”

“Yes.” Prowl said. 

His digits found the datapad on his desk and held it as if he had never let it go. 

“Right.” Smokescreen said. “You’ve been slowing down lately.”

Prowl suppressed an aggravated remark to that. 

“Have you been recharging well?”

He was going straight into the psychiatrist routine. Always ask about the recharge schedule first. 

“Yes.”

“What about your fuel?”

“My refuelling has been adequate.”

“I bet Ratchet would say otherwise.”

Prowl met his gaze and stared at him for several kliks. Smokescreen broke the silence. 

“Come with me. I’m sure he’d love to check you over.”

Prowl didn’t move. 

“I could also comm. him and ask him to make it an order.”

After several more kliks, Prowl sighed and pushed against his desk to stand. But when his pedes didn’t follow, he stumbled. Smokescreen lunged to catch him, even though Prowl had stabilized himself against his desk. 

Before he could question him, Prowl said, “I’m fine. I was just sitting for too long.”

“Yeah? Tell that to Ratchet. Come on.”

Smokescreen let go of him and opened the door. Prowl followed him out of his office and through the hallway. 

“This has been going on for awhile, hasn’t it? Since before you collapsed in the control room that day.”

Prowl didn’t meet his optics. “I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

“Yes, you do. Don’t act like you don’t. You’re burning out. It’s a real thing. You’ve been overworked for too long and it’s getting to you. Honestly, it’s impressive. I would have expected you to have burned out way sooner.”

Prowl didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say. There was a bit of embarrassment in Prowl’s chassis. It felt like he had just been exposed, like a secret of his was just found. He hadn’t been hiding his recent behavior from anyone. Not on purpose, at least. 

“Do you think Ratchet will be upset?”

“Probably, but he’ll get over it.”

Ratchet would be furious. Prowl hadn’t checked his internal diagnostics in awhile, but he knew it had to be bad. 

“He’ll put me on leave, won’t he?”

“I hope he does. If he doesn’t, I will.”

While Prowl knew that wouldn’t be necessary, Ratchet never hesitated to give Prowl a vacation, Smokescreen still had the power to do so. 

They arrived at the med bay. Smokescreen walked a few steps ahead and opened the door. Prowl stole a glance at him before walking inside.


End file.
